


Why Is Love So Disastrous?

by Raven052



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dubious Consent, Hints of Obsession, M/M, dom!Frank/sub!Gerard, guilty!Frank, pre!MCR to present day, sickness - drugging, suggestions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven052/pseuds/Raven052
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was lost from the very beginning, before he even knew his name.<br/>But he never could've guessed where they were heading. </p>
<p>A dark, disastrous love story, told by a regretful and guilt ridden Frank Iero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Is Love So Disastrous?

Sometimes, Frank wondered if it had all been a really, really bad idea.   
The whole thing, from start to finish.  
Not the band, never the band.  
Maybe the band…  
Or, at least, his involvement in it. 

_If I’d just stayed away…  
If I’d just had some control._

He’d never had control though, even before the band, before he was part of the band, anyway.  
Even the times where he’d seemed like the one in control, really there was someone else pulling his strings, all along.

Frank had been the puppet. And he was the master.   
Or, sometimes Frank thought he just told himself that, so it made it easier to lay blame. 

Now, sat up in his bedroom, sat on the edge of his bed, trying to keep his focus on the sounds coming from downstairs, trying not to let his mind stray.  
He rubbed his face, as the memories came, and he was forced to play it through again.

He remembered when they first met.

A house party. Frank hadn’t wanted to go, but at the same time, he hadn’t wanted to stay home that night, so he went anyway. 

Only to find he was just as bored there as he had been at home.

Sat on a couch, a little drunk, wanting to be more so, but not willing to get up and do something about it, Frank was busy ignoring everyone who came and sat beside him. 

And that included the guy who threw himself down on the couch, nearly falling into Frank’s lap as he did.   
It was the only reason Frank even looked up. 

This is the point in the story where Frank is supposed to say how it was love at first sight. That he was blown away, and all was lost. This guy who’d sat beside him was the most beautiful thing he’d ever set eyes on. 

Only part of that is right.   
It wasn’t love at first sight, and he was most certainly not in a state that anyone could say was beautiful.   
But yes, even at that earliest of points, all was already lost. 

The guys hair was a dark and unsightly mess, shortish, but still managing to fall down into his eyes a little, which were currently closed as he threw his head back against the top of the couch.   
His mouth was open but still smiling, his slim body sprawled out, legs slightly apart.  
He had a strong smell of alcohol about him, somehow noticeable even though the stench of bad beer was everywhere in the house. 

He turned his head, opened his eyes, and smiled at Frank.   
Without even meaning to, Frank found himself smiling back.   
“Someone leave you all by yourself?” The guy asked.   
Frank shrugged. “Not really. I got invited, but… I haven’t seen my friend all night.”   
“Who’s your friend?”   
Frank hadn’t meant to get caught up in a conversation. But now he had, he found he didn’t want to stop.   
“Uh, Mikey.” He replied.   
The guys eyes lit up, and he sat up, looking excited. “Mikey Way?”   
Frank nodded.  
“You know my brother? That’s awesome!” The other guy exclaimed.   
Frank frowned, then, quickly remembered Mikey talking about his older brother.  
So this was him? Cool.  
The guy lent forward and whispered in Frank’s ear, “Mikey dragged me here too. He thinks I don’t ‘get out enough’.” He laughed, softly, almost a giggle.   
That, combined with the closeness of the two of them, and the not quite comfortable warmth of his breath on Frank’s ear, was the first thing that made Frank realise there was something going on.   
The other guy sat back, though not moving the original distance, still sitting close to Frank.  
He brought the beer in his hand (which Frank hadn’t noticed until now), up to his lips, but paused, glancing at Frank, noticing that he didn’t have a drink of his own.

The guy glanced back at his beer, then offered it to Frank. “You know what? I’ve had waaay too many of these already. And you don’t seem even a little drunk. There’s no fun being at a party if you’re not drunk.”   
Frank laughed, shortly at that. He had to agree.   
He took the offered drink, then frowned at it suspiciously. “Did you do something to it?” Frank asked.   
The other guy laughed. “Yeah, I spiked it. Got plans for you later, babe.”   
Frank laughed too, catching the glint of humour in his eyes, knowing it was a joke.   
But, already, not really caring if it wasn’t. 

The guy left briefly, bringing back more drinks. Apparently he’d changed his mind about having far too many already.

They didn’t talk much, but it was comfortable, so neither of them really cared. They hadn’t even exchanged names, it didn’t seem important.  
“So… Have you seen Mikey much tonight?” Frank asked.  
A snort gave Frank the answer in brief. “Yeah right. He dropped me off here, then wandered off. Last I heard he’d been seen heading upstairs.”   
“With company?” Frank prompted.   
“I see you’ve been out with my brother before.”   
Frank laughed. “Yeah. I’m amazed, he always finds someone.”  
“He does. Not like me, I never find anyone.”   
“You found me.” Frank said, without thinking of the implications behind that.   
Not realising he _meant_ those implications.   
He realised it though when the guy looked up, frowning slightly, trying to assess what Frank had said.  
Then he leant closer, and, with the briefest hesitation before it, their lips met.  
Despite wanting it, Frank found himself backing off. Surprised and unsure about this turn of events.   
“Sorry… I…”  
Frank shook his head, reached his hand out, onto the guys cheek, then kissed him again, halting any further apologies.   
Yes it was messy, and unseemly. They were both drunk so how could it be anything else? Both of them tasted strongly of the beer they’d been drinking, and Frank caught an extra taste of cigarette smoke, making him crave one. He rarely smoked, but right now he was dying for the taste, so he took as much from the mouth on his as he could, his tongue pushing in, desperate for that taste, for everything this guy was giving him.  
He felt himself being heaved up, and onto the guys lap, arms circled tight around his waist while his arms grabbed the guys shoulders, before working up into his mess of hair.

And that is how Mikey eventually caught up with them.  
“Gerard! Oh shit…”   
Immediately the pair parted, Frank nearly falling backwards in his haste to get away.   
He could not look at Mikey right now.   
Gerard was blushing, heavily, but part of that might have had to do with being flushed from the kiss.   
“Hey… Mikey. I, uh…”  
“C’mon, Gee, we’re getting out of here.”   
Gerard frowned, looking slightly annoyed. “Hey! You’re acting like it’s some bad thing to get off at parties. Where exactly have you been all night?” Gerard looked, pointedly at Mikey’s hair, previously well styled, but now almost as much of a mess as Gerard’s.   
Mikey raised his hand to his hair, self consciously.   
Then Mikey scowled. “At least I bothered to find some privacy.”  
“It was only kissing!” Gerard protested.   
It was then that Mikey finally looked over at Frank.  
His eyes went wide.   
“Frank? I- Okay. Gerard, we’re going home.”  
Gerard tried to protest, but apparently Little Brother Knows Best. 

Frank left almost immediately after.  
He took himself to bed, even though he was still wide awake.  
And he’d got himself off thinking about what might have followed those kisses, had the circumstances been a little different. 

Back in the present, Frank felt his stomach clench, almost painfully. That had been the first time him and Gerard had met, and even from then, he’d known that wouldn’t be the end of it, even though he’d been scared it would be.  
He could remember the fantasies he’d come up with that night. He’d had no idea they in no way measured up to the reality. 

When he’d next seen Mikey, he’d apologised to him. Saying he didn’t know what’d come over him, he didn’t want things to become awkward between them now.   
Mikey had told him not to worry, and that he was sorry he’d reacted so badly.  
“It was a shock… Gerard usually hides that he’s… _Like that_.”   
Without being told, Frank knew Mikey meant ‘gay’.   
“I tell him he shouldn’t worry so much, but he’s a pretty private guy. I know you’ll… Keep what happened to yourself, right? He won’t want people knowing what happened.”   
Frank nodded, a knot of unexplainable worry cropping up inside him. “So he doesn’t remember?”   
Mikey shook his head. “Well… He knows he hooked up with someone, and he knows it was a guy. But… He was pretty drunk. Don’t be offended that he doesn’t remember you, okay?”   
Frank nodded, he wasn’t offended.   
A little disappointed, perhaps…   
Then, deciding to change tracks, Frank asked, “So… Who was the girl?”   
Mikey just smiled, sheepishly.   
Frank laughed. “You Way’s are more alike that I realised.” 

In truth, Frank had been a little pleased Gerard didn’t remember him.   
It meant that, when they were reintroduced, there was no awkwardness.   
Not for Gerard, at least.   
Frank still felt awkward, as he realised that it hadn’t just been the drink that had made him attracted to Gerard. 

Things had been good though, when Frank joined the band, it seemed natural, like he was always meant to be there. 

Slowly, the tension between him and Gerard became more noticeable. But it was a nice kind of tension, in a weird way. They liked it, enjoyed it, played off it.  
Neither really realising how much damage they were doing.

Frank was falling ever harder, but becoming more convinced Gerard wasn’t really interested.

Then, slowly, the tension was becoming less fun for Frank. Driving him crazy. He’d got mad at Gerard a few times, puzzling the lead singer, especially as Frank was unwilling, and incapable to explain why.

Eventually it got too much.  
And Frank did something he regretted ever since. 

Back in the present once again, Frank dropped his head to his knees, doubling over, his hands clenching, tightly in his hair.   
If he could go back and change just one thing, it would be this.   
Maybe without this, things would’ve calmed down, and he would’ve stopped.   
He hadn’t had enough sense to see that at the time though. 

They’d been travelling around with a bunch of other bands for festivals, which meant the only time they really spent on the tour bus (Yes, they had a BUS now. Not a tiny little van that meant them all laying on each other… That had been… Hell. For a lot of reasons, for Frank at least), was when they were sleeping.  
Although, even then they could often be found crashed out in another bands bus instead. 

Tonight though, Frank had headed back early, he’d overdid it quite a bit the night before, so much so that the headache had persisted until about an hour before they went out on stage.   
“You look rough, Frankie, you doing okay?” Gerard had asked, concerned.   
Frank had frowned at him, wondering why he wasn’t feeling similar effects, Gerard had drunk as much as, if not more than him.  
Then Frank had caught sight of the bottle on the table behind him, from what he could tell, it was half empty already.   
Frank shook his head, admitted he wasn’t doing okay.   
Gerard had got him some painkillers, and told him to take it easy before the show.   
“Can’t play without our stick of dynamite, can we?” Gerard said, softly, teasing.   
He’d been calling Frank that since the night they first played together as a band. Frank was the ‘dynamite’, Gerard said.  
Frank kinda liked that. 

Something was becoming obvious with Gerard though. Despite the front he continually put on, something was not right.   
And it had to do with the fact Frank couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Gerard without a drink nearby.  
Frank wondered if he was the only one to notice. It wasn’t exactly a big deal, it was just the atmosphere, right? The whole, being on the road with a bunch of other bands… It was like an ongoing party.   
Yeah. That was all it was. Nothing to worry about. 

(Another thing Frank regretted, and, maybe if he’d drawn attention to that, the thing he most regretted would never have happened). 

Frank was alone in the bus, slightly lonely, but mostly happy with this turn of events. 

He laid down in his bunk, more than content to let sleep find him at this early hour. 

Frank must’ve slept, because the next thing he knew, he was being jolted awake by a slam and a clattering.   
He jumped up and peered out into the bus.  
Both relieved and surprised to find it was only Gerard.

He got up and headed over to where the lead singer was sprawled on the couch.   
Something about his position, something about his hair made Frank think back to that night. The one Gerard didn’t even remember.   
Or at least, he didn’t remember Frank. 

Gerard opened his eyes, and smiled. “Hey, Frankie. I wondered where you were.”  
“I came back early.” Frank said, uselessly.   
For some reason, he couldn’t think of anything more helpful to say.   
For some reason, he couldn’t stop staring at Gerard’s mouth.

Gerard nodded though, a little too much. “Yep. Me too. I got sick of people telling me to slow down.”  
Frank frowned.  
So someone else had noticed.   
Frank went to open his mouth, to say something, but Gerard got in before him. “You’re not going to tell me to slow down, are you, Frankie?”   
Frank shut his mouth, swallowed hard, thinking this over.  
The sensible part of his mind wanted him to say ‘yes, I think you should’.  
But, the part that wanted to please Gerard won out. He smiled, a little forced, but Gerard didn’t notice. “Of course not, Gee.”

Frank might not have been up to helping, but he wasn’t going to watch, so, quickly after that assurance, Frank took himself back to bed. Certain Gerard would forget he was even there.

Frank was very, very wrong.

He’d just barely drifted back to sleep when he felt a shift on his bunk, like extra weight.   
He opened his eyes, and saw Gerard, sitting on the edge of his bunk, looking down at him.   
Frank sat up, on his elbows, and frowned. “What is it Gee?”   
“Can I tell you something bad?” Gerard asked.  
Frank felt his heart jolt, his breath halt.   
Was this the part where Gerard said he had a problem, where he asked for help?   
Frank nodded, suddenly more than willing to help in any way he was needed.  
“I was staring at you then… And wondering what it’d be like to kiss you.”   
It was not the revelation Frank was expecting, but it had a similar effect.  
“I- Uh-.”  
Gerard laughed, softly, almost a giggle, “That’s fucking creepy of me, right?” He asked.  
Frank shook his head, then frowned. “Okay, the watching me sleep bit, yeah, but-”  
Frank’s words were cut off as Gerard darted forward, and kissed him.   
He backed off after that first kiss.  
Frank kept his eyes closed, as did Gerard.  
“Was that weird?” Gerard asked.  
“No.” Frank breathed, barely audible. “No. It wasn’t, it wasn’t at all.” He sat up then, his hand curling around the back of Gerard’s head, tangling in his hair as they kissed again, deeper.  
Frank’s mind was awash with memories of that night, the night he’d never stopped thinking about, that he’d always hoped there would be another of, a continuation of. So many similarities.   
The taste and smell of alcohol. A few minutes ago, it had made Frank feel sorry and upset, worried about Gerard, now it just reminded him of the night when he’d so hopelessly fallen for him.  
Mouths were open, and tongues were touching, tasting, wanting more.  
Frank’s fingers gripped Gerard’s hair, not wanting to let him go. 

There were a couple of startling differences though.  
Frank was not drunk, in fact he hadn’t had a drink since the previous night.   
Also, they were alone, rather than surrounded by a bunch of strangers and a few friends.

Really, the first thing should’ve made the whole situation a lot more in control.  
But the second thing meant that, sober or not, it was all too tempting.

It really shouldn’t have been Frank who took the step forward first, but he did anyway, his hand creeping under Gerard’s shirt, almost moaning at the pleasure of finally touching Gerard’s skin in an un-innocent way.   
Gerard followed Frank’s example, sliding his hands under Frank’s shirt, then up his back.  
Then Frank was undoing the buttons of Gerard’s shirt, opening it up, letting his hands roam over Gerard’s chest, then, finally, parting his mouth from Gerard’s, bending, slightly awkwardly to kiss and gently suck on the skin he’d exposed.  
Gerard tipped his head back, panting softly.

And Frank thought, even if Gerard didn’t remember this the next morning, at least he’d have a sense that something good had happened.   
And Frank would remember. He was determined to remember every second of it. 

They’d shifted somehow, and now Frank was on his back, with Gerard on top of him, kissing his neck, straddling him.   
Gerard had also succeeded in getting Frank’s shirt off him, something that had passed Frank by somewhere in amongst all the kisses and gorgeously hot touches.  
He was aware of the bare skin pressed against his own, the mouth on his neck, the way Gerard still had his shirt on, albeit open.   
He wanted that changed, and pulled it off, his hands running over Gerard’s back, his nails scratching ever so slightly.   
Then, he was aware of another thing.  
Their crotches pressed, close together.  
Both of them were hard, and Gerard had just stared rocking against him.  
Frank took up the pace, producing soft moans from both of them.

Gerard’s mouth was to Frank’s ear, panting softly before he could get any words out.  
“You feel so good, Frankie. Why’d I never know that before?”   
Frank shook his head, unable to concentrate enough to answer.   
“God, Frankie, I- I- Love it. You’re so…”  
He trailed off, pausing to suck gently on Frank’s ear lobe.   
Then, quite suddenly, he’d sat up, making Frank sit up too, worrying he’d done something wrong.   
Already, Gerard had undone Frank’s belt, and was working on his jeans. 

Frank flushed, heavily, embarrassed and suddenly panicking.   
This was going much faster than he’d expected.   
He hadn’t actually thought this far ahead.   
He grabbed Gerard’s hands, stopping him.   
Gerard looked up, confused, and possibly a little hurt.   
Frank shook his head. “I don’t- I don’t think-”  
The confusion melted, leaving only hurt on Gerard’s features. “You don’t want…?”   
Frank bit his lip, having to think very, very carefully before shaking his head.   
Gerard stared at Frank a few seconds longer, then looked away, and slid himself off the bed.  
He sat, on the floor, at the end of Frank’s bed, and let his head fall into his hands.   
“I shoulda known you wouldn’t want me.”  
Frank stared at him, startled.   
No. That hadn’t been what Frank meant at all.   
“Gee, I-”  
“I fucked up!” Gerard exclaimed, over him. “I know I fucked up and I’m sorry, but I was too fucking scared to come to you before! What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want you to reject me. I’m sorry I went to other guys before you, but I was _just_ trying to work on my confidence!”   
Then he sniffed, making it obvious he was crying. “Now you just think I’m a slut, don’t you? Who’d want a slut anyways?”   
Frank frowned at him, then slowly shuffled closer, swinging his legs down, so he was next to Gerard, though above him on the bed.   
“Wait… You… Were interested?”  
Gerard nodded. “I can’t explain it Frank… I’ve… I liked you since we met.”   
Frank blinked, dumbfounded.   
“I like you too.” He offered.   
“You’re just saying that.” Gerard sniffed.  
“No. I’ve always liked you.”  
Gerard looked up, frowning slightly at Frank. “Then why did you push me away?”  
“Because I’ve been waiting for it… For so long.” Frank admitted.  
Gerard turned, shifting himself closer to Frank, placing a hand on his leg. “Then why wait any longer?”   
Frank had a dozen excuses on his tongue, but they all froze as Gerard placed his other hand on Frank’s other leg, and moved his legs apart, getting between them.  
Frank watched, mouth hanging slightly open, as Gerard continued what he’d started, undoing Frank’s jeans, then, with a small yank, taking them down, pulling them off.  
He watched as Gerard’s hand reached out again, palm open, and placed it, gently over Frank’s erection, now more obvious through his underwear.  
Frank tipped his head back, and gasped.

He gasped, louder still when Gerard pulled the underwear down, and, without further warning, lowered his head, taking Frank’s cock into his mouth.  
Frank moaned, his hips bucking at the unexpected act. Eyes flying open, then closing tight as he took in and appreciated the beautiful warm wetness, crying out as Gerard took him in deeper.  
His hand went to Gerard’s head, playing with his hair, resisting the temptation to push Gerard further.   
Oh God, it was too good.  
Frank opened his eyes, and looked down, moaning again at the sight, before his head tipped back again.  
He felt Gerard’s hand on his thigh, then moving down to touch him more intimately.  
Frank made himself sit up, so he could watch Gerard, he wanted to see, wanted to see this beautiful act Gerard was performing.

Somehow it was then that it hit him again.  
The fact this was wrong.  
That Gerard was drunk, and possibly unaware of what he was doing.   
Frank placed a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, and pushed him back.  
“Stop.” He said, softly. “Gee, this is a bad idea.”  
Gerard frowned, obviously not understanding.   
Frank closed his eyes, trying not to remember how red and inviting Gerard’s lips looked.  
“Gee. You’re drunk. I can’t-”  
Gerard shrugged. “So what? I’m often drunk when I have sex.”   
Frank’s turn to frown. “Gee. You’re not-”  
“Relax, Frankie, I know what I’m doing.”  
And, as much as Frank wanted to stop him, a bigger, much less moral part of him just wanted Gerard to continue what he’d been doing.

Frank was watching him again, loving seeing Gerard doing this. Frank had grabbed his hair again, and was bucking his hips, getting a bad little thrill when Gerard tensed, not expecting the thrust.  
Frank had lost control and he knew it. 

Then he made things worse.   
Pushing Gerard back, then, before the other man could protest, pulling him back onto the bed.  
They kissed, hotly, before Frank pushed Gerard onto his back, undressing him hurriedly.

Naked now, Frank looked down, his eyes travelling all over Gerard, taking him in.   
Gerard’s hands were fidgeting, uncomfortably, like he was trying to stop himself from covering himself with his hands.   
“Frankie…” He whined, softly. “Stop staring, please.”   
Frank shook his head. “How can I stop when you’re so…” He bent down, and kissed Gerard, while his hand smoothed over Gerard’s chest, lightly grazing over his cock.  
Gerard whined again, happily this time.

Then Frank was parting Gerard’s legs, his turn to get in between.  
He was unskilled and unsure, but he wanted this, and certain Gerard did too.   
He was too hurried, no proper lube, nor the correct amount of spit on his fingers.  
He was causing pain, but unwilling to accept that.  
“Frank- Frankie.” Gerard gasped, into his ear. “S- Slow down, please?”   
When Frank didn’t, Gerard nearly screamed in his ear. “Frank! You’re not listening! You’re being too rough!”   
Then, a sob as punctuation. “I’m not- I’ve not- I haven’t done this before, Frankie! Whatever you might think of me I haven’t had sex with a guy before!”  
Frank stopped, briefly then. “You haven’t?” He asked.  
Gerard shook his head. He looked, again, like he was going to cry. “You do think I’m a slut then…” Gerard said, miserably.  
Frank’s cheeks grew hot, though whether it was through embarrassment or annoyance, he wasn’t sure.   
“No, Gee, I-” He cut himself short, suddenly giving way to his annoyance. “You know what, Gee? Spot fucking playing games with me. Stop manipulating my feelings so that no matter what I do or say, I’m the fucking bad guy.”   
Gerard shook his head. “I wasn’t-”  
“You were! You are! You know what? I’m fucking sick of this, I am done with dealing with your drunk ass. Now get the fuck out of here and find someone else to suck off.”   
Gerard sat up, drawing his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. “You don’t mean that…”   
“Actually, I do.” Frank snapped. “I’m fucking sick of you lying to me. I actually fucking _like_ you, you know that? But I can’t deal with you playing around like this!”   
Gerard was crying, properly now. “I’m not playing around!” He protested.   
“Really? Then stop crying! Stop crying and tell me the fucking truth. What do you want from me, Gerard?”  
Gerard rubbed, furiously at his eyes, sniffed again. “I want you to stop yelling at me…”  
Frank glared at him.   
“And…” Gerard continued. “I want you to be gentle with me. And I want you to believe me when I say I’ve never had sex with a guy before.”

Frank moved up close again then, prised Gerard’s arms off from around his legs, then spread them again.  
More spit that time, and Frank went a little slower. 

Gerard laid flat on his back, while Frank stayed on his knees, he lifted Gerard’s legs.  
They both moaned as Frank moved into him. 

Frank kept his eyes open, watching Gerard, taking him in.  
Watching as Gerard tipped his head back, arched his neck, then his whole back. Watched his hand lightly touch his cock, before flitting over his chest, before finally grabbing Frank’s hand and holding it tight.  
“You feel so good, Frankie.” He gasped. “Want this every night… Every night…”

Frank came quick, overwhelmed by what was happening. This, finally, him and Gerard. After so long just hoping for another kiss…

He pulled out, laid beside Gerard, curling his arm around Gerard’s waist, his hand reaching to touch him, get him off too, help him finish. Frank sat up to place a kiss on Gerard’s lips, only to find himself being pushed back.   
Frank frowned.   
“I… Don’t feel right.” Gerard said, unsteadily.   
Frank felt a nasty, cold jolt in his stomach.   
Gerard didn’t feel right about what had just happened? 

Before he could ask, Gerard had got himself out of bed.  
Frank sat up, watching where he was going.   
Then heard him throw up in the bathroom.

It really, truly hit Frank then.  
He’d had sex with Gerard, while he was heavily drunk.   
It didn’t matter what Gerard had said, or what he had done. Frank had known that Gerard wasn’t fully in control of himself. Surely all the crying should’ve tipped him off.   
But Frank hadn’t cared. He’d wanted it, so he’d taken it.  
He didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk himself, he was entirely, stone cold sober.  
He’d had sex with Gerard, he’d taken advantage of the situation.   
He’d taken advantage of Gerard.  
He hoped, selfishly, that Gerard wouldn’t remember. 

In the present, Frank was damn near pulling his hair out, his shoulders shaking with tears he refused to let free. He wanted to scream, wanted to curse and yell.  
He wanted to wreck something, preferably himself.

He shouldn’t have done it. He knew it, Frank thought that possibly, even as he’d been doing it, even as he’d _fucked_ Gerard he knew he shouldn’t be. That small voice was telling him he was wrong.   
But Frank had ignored it.   
He’d enjoyed it too much. It felt too good to stop. 

While Gerard had been sick in the bathroom, Frank didn’t even get up to check on him, like he usually would’ve done, he’d felt that wretched.   
Now it made him feel even worse. The one way he could’ve helped, he’d been too busy feeling sorry for himself because he’d just taken advantage of the person he loved most.

The next morning, Gerard had looked sickly and pale.   
He’d been throwing up most of the night, and when Mikey finally came back in the early hours, he’d found Gerard, still in there. Though, thankfully, during one of the short lapses of being ill, he’d retrieved some clothes. He’d been getting cold. 

Mikey had woken Frank up (even though Frank hadn’t actually slept), and asked if he knew what’d happened.   
Frank hadn’t been unable to stop himself from breaking down, his turn to cry now.   
He lied brilliantly.   
Saying he didn’t know, that he’d been asleep and woke up to Gerard coming into the bus.  
He’d fallen asleep again, the woke up to Gerard being sick.  
“I’m sorry, I should’ve come and found you, he seemed like he would be okay, but then he got worse and I was scared and didn’t know what to do.”  
Mikey nodded. “It’s okay, Frank, at least you were here. If you hadn’t been, something worse could’ve happened to him.”   
Frank closed his eyes, tight. Trying not to think that something worse had happened to Gerard.   
_He’d_ happened. 

It was nearly light out by the time Gerard was able to leave the bathroom. Mikey let him lean on him.  
Frank was shocked by how ill he looked.   
“I still feel bad, Mikes.” Gerard said, weakly.  
“Uh huh. You will. But you’ve stopped being sick so you can lay down now.”   
“I _hurt_ Mikey.”   
Frank winced at that.   
Hoping he had nothing to do with that.  
“Yeah, that’ll be your stomach, and your throat, and your head Gee. That’s normal.”   
Gerard shook his head. “No, I…”  
As Mikey guided Gerard down onto his bunk, Gerard looked over at Frank, and he frowned.  
Then his eyes darted to the floor, right next to Frank’s bunk.   
Frank looked where he was staring, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of the condom from last night.   
Frank hurriedly bent down and chucked it under the bed.  
Looking up at Gerard, wide eyed.  
Gerard was frowning, staring at Frank, trying to figure out what that had been about.  
So Frank had been right, he didn’t remember.  
Or, at least, he didn’t remember the details. 

Gerard had given in, let Mikey look after him.   
Turned out someone had slipped something into Gerard’s drink, made him very drunk, very quickly, then very ill.   
Mikey insisted on telling the current venue they weren’t going to play tonight.  
Gerard had protested, begging, pleading, promising Mikey he’d be fine.  
Mikey wouldn’t be argued with though, and eventually, Gerard gave in to that too. 

Frank had felt worse when he knew Gerard had been drugged in some way. He wondered who would do something like that, and why?   
Feeling like he owed Gerard, a lot, Frank spent that day looking after him, whenever Mikey allowed him to take over.

At one point it was just Gerard and Frank.   
Frank had been left with instruction that, under no circumstances, should Gerard drink anything other than water, nor should he get out of bed unless completely necessary. 

“Frank.”  
Frank hadn’t looked at him.   
“Was that condom… From last night?”   
Frank paused, then nodded.   
“Was it yours? Or mine?”  
Frank buried his face in his hands again, unable to answer this, unable to lie.   
He heard Gerard sigh, heavily.  
“Both then.” He said, simply.   
Still, Frank didn’t answer.   
Another heaved sigh.   
“So long as it was you.” Gerard said, softly. “I can deal with it being you.”   
Frank had looked up, stared at him, but found Gerard’s eyes closed, as he slept for the first time that day. 

After that, things had changed between then, naturally. Immediately after, they kept their distance.  
But, slowly, that changed.

Started with kisses, stolen here and there. Then other antics slipped in when they thought they could get away with it. 

In time they slept together again, and this time it was so much better.  
Gerard was completely clean and sober then, and Frank’s guilt at what had happened before eventually faded, though it never went.   
He thought, possibly, that was why he always let Gerard be the dominant. Frank made a bad dominant, he needed to be submissive. It was safer that way. 

Of course, arguments happened, but they rarely went on long. They were both passionate people, so the fire often flared between them. They were easily cooled though, neither wanting to stay mad for long. 

Then, things went very, very wrong. 

An argument unlike the others, accusations and insults flung at each other, aiming to wound as badly as possible. To strike a nerve.

Gerard brought up the ‘mistake’, as they’d called it the rare times it’d been mentioned.   
“Oh great, bring that up again!” Frank snapped. “You know what Gee, you need some new fucking material! That’s old news!”   
“The fact the first time we had sex was you raping me is old news now? Really? Well forgive me if I’m still not entirely comfortable with that.”  
“Rape?” Frank echoed, disbelievingly. “That’s what you’re calling it now? Rape? Are you fucking kidding me?”   
“Well how the fuck should I know either way?” Gerard yelled at him. “I don’t remember a fucking thing!”  
“That’s because you were drunk as fuck! Like always!”   
“I was drugged!” Gerard screamed.  
“Yeah.” Frank sneered. “Like you weren’t used to that either.”   
There were tears in Gerard’s eyes now. “You know what?” His voice was quiet now. “I don’t need this. I don’t need you anymore. I have someone else now, and she’d never betray me like you did.”   
Frank rolled his eyes. “She’s a fucking cover, and you know it too!”   
Gerard hit him, so suddenly, Frank was thrown off balance, having to steady himself on a nearby table to stop himself falling.   
He looked up at Gerard, having to brush his hair out of his eyes, equally tear filled.  
“If I didn’t know better…” Frank said, shakily. “I’d say you’re drunk again now.”   
Gerard looked at him, distastefully. “You’re sick. I act even slightly out of the way you expect me to, and you think I’m drunk.”  
Frank shook his head. “You never hit anyone, Gee.”  
“You can stop worrying about me now, Frank.” Gerard said, walking towards the door. “I’m officially no longer your problem.” 

Frank remembered how that had hurt so much more than the physical pain.  
Was it the words? Or seeing Gerard walk away like that?  
Frank knew it was both.

Somehow, after so long apart, the two of them had drifted back, back into their old pattern, neither able to help it. 

Things were more complicated now though. There were wives, children involved. And as much as Frank was assured it was alright, like he’d always been assured, he couldn’t help but feel bad.  
He couldn’t stop though. He didn’t know how. 

Until, eventually, with a phone call, it’d all ended. 

“I can’t… Not anymore.”  
“Don’t.” Frank had pleaded, gripping the phone so tight he feared it would break.   
“Frank. I… This isn’t fair. Not on any of us. Not on you, not on me, not on our wives, our-”  
“Yours doesn’t even fucking know!” Frank hissed. “How is it so fucking hard on her if she doesn’t have a clue?”  
A deep sigh down the line. “Just because someone doesn’t know… Doesn’t mean it’s not unfair on them.”  
Frank closed his eyes, rubbed his hand over his face. “I won’t let you do this.”  
“Frank. You know this is the right thing to-”  
“No it’s not! I love you Gerard! I love you! Why do you never listen when I say that? Why? Why do you make me feel like I’m so wrong?”  
“I don’t mean to…” Gerard said, softly. “Maybe this is why it needs to end. I keep hurting you.”  
“No! NO! You are not using that fucking cop out! You don’t get to be the good guy!”   
“Neither of us were ever the good guy, Frank… That’s why we always got on.”  
Frank didn’t answer that.  
“I love you, Frank. I… I really do.”   
“I hate you.” Frank’s voice was barely a whisper.   
The phone went dead, and Frank threw it.  
He’d screamed and cried then. 

And now, in the present, Frank had finally given in, and was crying, once again.   
He slipped off the bed, landing on the floor.  
Once again he picked up his phone, and scrolled down, hovering over that familiar name.   
Saw himself dialling, heard it ring, heard that voice answer, confused, Frank had changed his number.   
The words stuck in Frank’s throat, there were too many to say.  
It all boiled down to this though, “I miss you.”   
“Frank?” He’d imagined the hopefulness in that voice, he was sure.   
Frank hung up quickly. His tears now catching and choking him. Why had he done that? Why had he done something so stupid? 

He jumped when his phone buzzed in his hand.   
Looked down, saw Gerard had returned the call.   
Frank dismissed it.   
The phone buzzed again, and Frank hesitated before dismissing it again.  
There was a pause, then a message popped up on his phone.   
‘I miss you too.’

Frank hated the hope and excitement that rose up in his chest at those words.  
He wondered if his poor heart could take all this again.


End file.
